I traveled though the atmosphere
As a wall of feedback climbed
The pegs were gold, the band was old
They played in half time

Now every dream gets whittled down
Just like every fool gets wise
You will never reap of any seed
Deprived of sunlight

So I've become the middleman
The gray areas are mine
The in-between, the absentee
Is a beautiful disguise

So I keep my footlights shining bright
Just like I keep my exits wide
'Cause I never know when it's time to go
It's too crowded now inside

The dead can hide beneath the ground
And the birds can always fly
But the rest of us do what we must
In constant compromise

So I've become the middleman
The gray areas are fine
The "I don't know," the "maybe so"
Is the only real reply
It is the only true reply